Call button
by ishouldjustwriteporn
Summary: Flight attendant AU. One person is pushing the call button way to often, it's lucky for him that he is so cute. Hidden clues on napkins and stolen glances.
1. Chapter 1

Found this AU on a post on tumblr. Thought it was cute, so I wrote it.

 _I'm a flight attendant and you're accidentally hitting the call button every 5 minutes, so you're lucky you're so cute AU._

* * *

John was tired, so incredibly tired. The flight had been delayed three time and now they were finally boarding after 3 hours of waiting. His jacket was ruffled, so was his hair and he was sure he had large circles under his eyes. He should never have agreed to go to the stupid conference, non of the doctors had had anything new or even remotely interesting to say. John was walking on autopilot now, beeping his boarding pass smiling slightly to the flight attendant checking people in. Thankfully none of the other passenger were saying anything as they all were about to fall over from the long wait. John couldn't see any babies either, thankfully.

The long corridor lighted by the florescence lights made everyone look even more zombielike. John shuffled along, grateful to finally be seated in a comfortable seat and have some shuteye. They all filed into the plane one by one, greeted by a tall lean flight attendant with dark curly hair a little to ruffled to match the rest of the neatly ironed uniform. He smiled at John, that fake flight attendant smile they all surely learned in training. There were a little gleam in his green eyes though John thought.

Finally seated in his seat all the way in the back of the plane, John was happy to notice he had the two seats all to himself. The plane was not full at all, as some of the other delayed passengers had gotten other connecting flights. He stretched out his feet and closed his eyes, but that did not help a bit he suddenly wasn't tired anymore, the change of environment had woken him up.

The curly haired flight attendant were doing the safety demonstration in the middle of the plane, and a blond very smiley lady were doing the same in the front. Apparently he was in charge of the back of the plane, the _not_ first class passengers. It was a six hour long flight from Ankara to London Heathrow. To survive this John needed alcohol. That was the one redeeming quality flights had though.

They took of, finally. Most of the passengers already in deep sleep. John hit the call button as soon as the seatbelt-sign turned of and loosened his belt just as the pilot told them to keep it on. The tall flight attendant got up from his seat in the back and strolled over to John.

"What can I help you with?" he asked in a deep voice, eyes scanning John from head to toe, considering.

"Do you have some of those little alcohol-bottles you always see in the movies?" John asked, careful to look him in the face.

"Yes." he said a little smile spreading across his lips, and then he left without asking John what kind of alcohol he wanted.

John tried not to look at him as he made his way to the front of the plane. He was quite toned though, not bulky, but there definitely were some muscles there, and a good looking ass. John tried to focus on something else, it was going to be a long flight if he was going to be sexually frustrated the whole way.

Five minutes later John saw him making his way down the length of the plane again. He walked with purpose, every motion was calculated and he was graceful in every movement. The tight black uniform-pants were doing him favors he definitely didn't need and the black vest and purple shirt that completed the uniform fit snuggly over his chest. The buttons were struggling visibly against the pressure.

He reached John and handed him a bottle of whiskey he has been carrying in his and and a napkin under a glass with a single ice-cube, exactly the way John took it. He took the glass and bottle from him, their hands brushed against each-other slightly. John felt a warm tingly run through his body. The mans eyes were large with long strong fingers. John smiled at the man and said thank you quickly. The man continued walking backwards in the plan starting to ready the cart.

"Sherlock" his name-tag had said, a unusual name for an unusual guy, John thought pouring his whiskey into his glass John leaned back and tried not to think about it, or him. But all he wanted to do was turn around and look at him. He had an energy around him that drew John in.

Fingering the napkin John turned it over and saw a number written on the back. "1" What was this? Weird, you would have thought they didn't write on the napkins before handing them to the passengers. He shrugged it of, falling back into indecent thoughts.

It wouldn't be looking if he was going to the bathroom located next to him, was it? No, it couldn't be.

John got up and walked the short distance to the back. Trying very hard not to look at _Sherlock_ as he walked by him and into the bathroom. But he accidentally caught a couple of glances of calves and thighs. John breathed out hard and splashed water into his face, it was going to be a long flight.

John made accidental eye-contact with _Sherlock_ as he walked back out. His eyes were very green and piercing, it felt like he saw into John. There were something hiding in them John could not quite place. It had been a couple of awkward seconds of them just standing there before John cleared his throat awkwardly and walked quickly back to his seat, feeling his cheeks growing hot as a warmth ran through him.

John flopped back into his seat placing his head in his hands. Why hadn't he done something or said something, anything, anything at all. He let his hans fall down to his lap looking at his empty glass and the napkin with the 1 written on it. Next to it there was another napkin. John felt his throat closing up as he turned it over. "14" was written in the corner.

Once might be an accident, but twice? It was a message of some sorts, and John thought they were from _him_ , from Sherlock. But what did the number mean?

John grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from his bag, writing the numbers down. Chewing at the end of his pen absentmindedly John pushed the call button again, turning his paper and the napkins over.

Suddenly he was standing there next to him, looking down. John looked up tracing his body with his eyes. He swallowed as he made eye contact with him, "could I get another?" he asked motioning to his drink. Sherlock looked down at it and nodded slowly. They both knew exactly what they were talking about, neither of them saying exactly what it was he wanted another one of.

Staring at the paper again John tried to figure out what they meant as another glass with a napkin and a bottle placed on the foldout table in front of him. He took the other glass, but left the napkins. As soon as he was gone John turned the napkin over, another 14.

And so it continued, stolen looks as Sherlock made his way to the other passengers and John pushing the call button over and over again, getting quite buzzed of all the liquor he was drinking to have a reason to push it. He ordered some nuts and other things as well to not get completely wasted.

14, 25, 9, 14, 7 were the next numbers, then a thought hit John, then most obvious of them all, but somehow John had tried every other thing he could think of. He grabbed his pen again and wrote down the alphabet and the corresponding numbers. 1 was A, 14 was N, another N, O, Y, I, N, G.

Annoying

John felt his throat close up again, annoying was he? Well so was he, with his stupid secretive eyes and high cheekbones and tight shirt. So this was the last napkin as well, well he was a little buzzed so that was probably good. He closed his eyes and felt a little spinning.

When he woke up he checked his clock, only 2 hours into the flight. This was going to be a long flight. He looked down at his table another napkin was laying on top of his glass. He didn't really want any more insult, but he turned it over anyway 12, L.

Annoyingl

Annoyingly? Annoyingly what? John felt a little relief that the message didn't end there, but at the same time he was annoyed now. And his blather was almost bursting from all the drinks. Getting up he went to the bathroom. When he returned he found another napkin, this time two numbers were written on it. He didn't see Sherlock anywhere he was probably up in the plane somewhere. The new numbers were 25 and 3.

So Annoyinglyc. Annoyingly c... John felt almost as annoyed as he did sexually frustrated. For at that moment Sherlock walked past him again. Long legs, long arms, strong arms. He smiled as he walked past John, but not at him. Frustrating him further. John didn't exactly know what he wanted, he was never going to see this mysterious guy again. Why was he giving him clues? What did he want?

John pulled himself together, he was not going to act desperate calling him over every minute. No he was going to go thirsty. But then, three hours into the flight it was mealtime. And with his dry chicken he got another napkin. 21, U. Annoyingly cu... John knew what he wanted the nest letters to be, TE. But that was hoping to much. Why would the flight attendant send him those messages, there had to be another reason. He was to so hard to ask, with all the signs he involuntarily was sending him, Sherlock probably had figured that out a long time ago.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock looked over the last row of seats just getting a look at the top of his blond head. He certainly had gotten his clues, squirming in his seat. Maybe he had been cruel starting it with Annoying... ly. But it certainly had been fun. And he was annoyingly cute. Sherlock liked playing with him. Mr. 42B with his knitted sweater and blue puppy-dog eyes, and he liked what he saw when he looked at Sherlock too.

Sherlock was waiting for him to make a move, he was sure he would have done it already his eyes were not shy at least. Searching every part of his body with his eyes, trying to casually look back, when your seat was the last certainly wasn't easy, but he managed somehow.

The call button sign went on again. 42B, didn't he know it. He walked over, swaying his hips just a little more than he normally would have. Looking down at him Sherlock ruffled his curls. The look he got just then had made the whole game worth it. Flustered and squirming in his seat, a little blush over his nose. Sherlock smiled at him. "Can I get you anything?"

"Eh, yeah, another one I think."

Sherlocks smile widened a bit. "Sure" he said wiggling his way back into the back. Feeling his eyes watching him. He took out another mini bottle. His goal had not been to get him drunk, but he certainly was heading there if he kept drinking like this. Finding another napkin he took the pen from the top shelf and wrote the number 20.

John got his scotch, and what he wanted even more a napkin. 20, T. His heart almost skipped a beat. C U T. It was dangerous getting your hopes up, but the looks he kept getting made him hope a little.

Was he going to make a move? He felt nervous just thinking about it. How was he going to do it, if he was going to do it at all?

The call button sign blinked again. Sherlock looked, 42B. He was going to get really drunk if he kept going in the tempo, it was a good thing he was cute or he would certainly be annoyed by now, but when he got there 42B didn't look at him, but he handed him a folded napkin and took a deep gulp from his scotch staring at it like it had the answers to the big questions in the universe.

Sherlock smiled, took the napkin and returned to the back. The unfolded the napkin and saw the letter 1 crossed out, 19 written next to it. S. Now this was intriguing. The kitten had claws.

The next napkins he got handed as he went by, 8 and 1. SHA. Walking back up the isle he looked eyes with him. There was a hunger in his eyes, that dampened the glassy look they had gotten from the booze. He passed him, but didn't get another napkin. A little bit irritated he continued walking when he heard him get up behind him following him the last steps to the back. Sherlock stopped and turned around. 42B was standing in the bathroom doorway, the door blocking the view of the rest of the cabin. There were not more than 30 cm between them. 42B stretched out his hand and gave him a napkin.

Sherlock unfolded it. 7. He smiled and looked up, locking eyes with 42B. There was a surge than went through both of them and Sherlock closed the distance between them, lips meeting fast and hard.

Sherlock pushed 42B into the bathroom and closed the door behind them locking it. They were close now, bodies pushed tight together. He could feel every inch of him, and it wasn't little. 42B's hands were on his back, pushing him closer. Sherlock took him by the neck pushing up against the opposite wall. 42Bs hands were on his vest now, unbuttoning, hungry for more skin contact. He wasn't the only one. Sherlock pulled his sweater over his head, as quickly as possible to not loose a second of their lips touching.

It was hot, it was warm, it was sweating and it was good. They were both shirtless now, touching. Oh, it felt so good. His hands found 42Bs belt buckle, unclasping it and the buttons of his pants, pulling them down with his underwear. His cock sprang free in all his glory. Sherlock looked him in the eyes, he was hungry for more and saw that mirrored back at him. He went down on his knees and licked his cock, the moan he got in return was unbelievable. He continued to lick and traced it up and down. 42B leaned closer and closer, he took it all in his mouth now. Moving up and down, moans pushing him forwards eagerly.

Then 42B suddenly put his hands in his curls pulling his head back, looking down on him breathing hard. Sherlock recognized than look, he was about to cum. 42B pulled him up and unbuttoned Sherlocks pants pulling them down with his underwear. Sherlock felt his entire body tingling with anticipation. 42B turned him around pushing him towards the door, fingers touching every part of his body before they went down his back and in between his cheeks. They found his asshole circling it carefully. The spring turned on and off again. The other hand was suddenly there as well, circling in what felt like an eternity, before it finally entered his. A groan of relief escaped Sherlocks mouth, that only made 42B push in even more. In and out, and in and out. One finger, then two, then three. Sherlock was squirming under his control now.

"Do it" he begged. And he heard a giggle behind him, breath in his ear. Then he felt it, hard and thick entering him. He was wonderful, not as gentle as Sherlock would have thought, but that made it even better. Sherlock wanted to scream it was so good. He leaned his head against the bathroom door, but 42B grabbed a handful of his curls pulling his head back, placing his head close to Sherlocks neck, lips barely touching.

Sherlock could feel himself edging closer and closer, before suddenly he exploded with a loud groan. He felt 42B coming as well, a moan in his ear. They stayed like that for a while, 42B leaning on his back, both breathing hard. "John" 42B whispered in his ear.

So that was his name, John. It suited him. Sherlock turned around and held out his arm. "Sherlock" he said and they shook hands. Getting dressed and walking out was a little bit awkward. Nobody turned around and looked, thankfully. 42B, or John, made his way back to his seat. The next time Sherlock passed his seat he was soundly asleep.

John woke up with a smile on his face by the pilot announcing their ascend to London. The fasten seatbelt sign was lit and he tried to turn around to look at Sherlock, but he was restricted by the they had landed everybody got up and tried to take their baggage out of the overhead compartment all at once. Thankfully John was the closest to the back exit and made his way there first. Slipping a napkin to the tall flight attendant as he went by. It had numbers, but also so letters spelling _Call me_.


End file.
